


Something Softer

by Tree Ghost (MemeTree)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Everyone Is Poly Because Avengers, Everyone Loves Sam Wilson, Fluff, M/M, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Pre-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Sam Wilson is a Gift, first fic, i have decided to stan forever, i love him so god damn much and he was robbed in infinity war, i refuse to let this get angsty
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-28
Updated: 2018-05-07
Packaged: 2019-04-29 03:41:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14464224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MemeTree/pseuds/Tree%20Ghost
Summary: Those two years. The loving, gentle, Sam-centric calmBefore the storm





	1. Something Home (T'Challa)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter One. T'Challa.  
> The sun is setting. The Sky is clear

It was always easier, here.

 

Whenever the ship touched down on this city that always looked kissed with gold, and the new, smaller team made their way out into the sun, Sam breathed easier.

He didn’t know if it were that sun, or the trees, or the lack of the ever-present whisper of pollution dancing in the air that he’d lived his entire life through, or just knowing how secure this place was...or maybe it was just because of the lack of weight. The, ‘watch a couple cross the street instead of passing you on the sidewalk’ kinda weight. The ‘watching lives of babies get talked about in hypotheticals because they look like you’ kinda weight. The ‘out of the three of you working together, the most likely to be arrested is gonna be you’ kinda weight.

 

There was none of that here, made his chest lighter, his heart at ease.

And so he breathed.

 

T’Challa used to wait for them, every time they touched down. Steve was flustered but honored, Nat was just excited for another chance to try to look good to Okoye, Sam was the one to tell him, with a smooth smile and grateful eyes, that he knew T’Challa had better things to do, to stop in when he could, but not to put this over the needs of his own country just for courtesy.

T’Challa had laughed a little, but taken him up on it, opting to only come by when his scheduling allowed.

And he came.

 

 

The first time, Sam and Steve had been off in their rooms, both laying in Steve’s bed together, neither saying nor doing anything, save enjoying the quiet, the warmth, the stillness, just being together. T’Challa had knocked, and Steve had answered. If the Sam behind him on the bed hadn’t tipped T’Challa to what was going on, Steve’s lack of a shirt probably did. Steve still smiled warmly and called back to Sam that they’d been graced with royalty. Before the king could politely excuse himself to go wander the halls and try not to think too hard about how happy Steve had looked to see him and the details of his physique, Sam was there too, in the opposite of Steve’s, wearing a shirt he’d obviously stolen from the larger man, and not much else that T’Challa could tell.

“Hey man, wanna come in?” Sam’s smile was as easy as his breath, T’Challa was sure if it’s power could be harnessed, it could restart a dying star. “We’re just resting, looks like you could use a nap anyway.”  
  
It was true, and he did want to come in. T’Challa didn’t dare try to run through the exhaustive list of things he’d gotten through that day, pushing himself a little harder so he could try to visit his guests. But an answer to Sam’s questions hadn’t come from his lips. Had he frozen again? Bast’s sake. He was already having trouble enough finding a place to look. He settled on Steve’s face and his gaze said what his lips didn’t manage to get out.

Sam took one of the king’s hands and when he looked over, Steve had already taken the other. Sam squeezed, lightly, then the two of them lead T’Challa into their room, closing the door behind him. “You can take off whatever,” Sam said softly, eyes still on T’Challa’s face, which had relaxed considerably after being pulled in. Some things weren’t easy to get out. Sam knew that all too well, but here, for himself, it was easy to speak freely.

“We- weren’t sure if you were coming,” Steve said, smile on his face and flush still clear on his cheeks and neck, widening and deepening as T’Challa toed off his shoes and tugged off his jacket, standing before the two of them in his sleeveless undershirt and form-fitting pants, “...glad ya did, though.” Steve’s words went a little breathless, and he sunk back onto the bed, as did Sam, although Sam grabbed T’Challa’s hand again and pulled him onto the mattress.

T’Challa came easily now, a smile gracing his own lips as he settled on the other side of Sam, curing around his warmth, his arm brushing Steve’s as he too wrapped an arm around the smaller man’s waist. Sam hummed, softly, his fingers running over the toughened skin of an ex-soldier who refused to stop fighting for something to live for, and the soft skin of a king whose dedication and lopsided smiles had won Sam over (and Steve too) without even really having to try.

T’Challa’s other hand was found and held onto by Steve. Steve, who lifted his fingers to kiss them, lifted his own head to place a bearded, prickly kiss to Sam’s neck, then let his eyes flutter closed as he felt himself at such peace. It was odd, they'd never done this before, although the relationship had been building for some time now, in pieces, in stolen moments, but this was tangible, so, so real, that it was almost overwhelming.

  
Sam turned a little in the bed so he could look up at T’Challa properly, dark eyes reading dark eyes for a long moment before Sam couldn’t help but laugh, snickering a little and pressing his forehead against T’Challa’s shoulder.

  
“Something I should be aware of?” T'Challa asked, voice light,

“S’nothing, just. Shit, anyone tell you how pretty you are recently? It’s almost unfair, I feel like you could weaponize it. You do this thing with your eyes, Steve does it too, it floors me, I don’t even know what it is.”

Steve shifted a little, and both other men heard the soft rumble, “S’called the, ‘I’m in love with Sam Wilson look’, n’ you should be used to it by now.”

T’Challa laughed, then kissed Sam, gently. The room filled with peach colored light as the sun went down, and the three of them melted in it.

T’Challa stayed the entire night.

 

Sam woke up in a tangle of limbs with a full heart. The light was sharper, the sun was past rising. 

It took a while to figure out which arms were his own, but eventually he realized in the night, Steve had pulled Sam onto his chest, and pulled T’Challa right up to his side, holding them both close and tight, treasures not to be let go.

Steve stirred, and hummed against the back of his neck, and Sam turned enough around to give him a gentle, morning breath kiss, before both of their attention turned to the man in bed with them.

T’Challa’s eyes didn’t open, but his lips did twitch, then spread into a smile.

"Good morning, you two."  
"Mornin'."  
"Mmm...hey."

It was so natural, and  _right_.

 

And Sam’s breathing came even easier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LMAO so i don't. write fics? but i needed something to do with my hands, it's been 48 hours and im still reeling from this film (and a criminal lack of content from my faves) so i guess im writing a thing now, this happens sometime between Civ and Infinity, idk
> 
> this is literally the first fic ive ever written and the most self-indulgent thing I've ever written, idk if i plan to make this super regular but i have an idea for a post- infinity war fix-it bc my heart is still crying and so are my eyes
> 
> Anyway hope u like! Kudos and comments are cool, feel free 2 yell at me abt this film! This hasn't been beta'd so sorry for any errors that slipped through the cracks!
> 
> Next chapt should be up in a lil bit


	2. Something Deep (Steve)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Two. Steve  
> The moon is up. It's windy out. Sam and Steve have a talk.

“Hey”

“Hey”

Sam shuffled until he was directly on top of Steve, laying across him, looking down at him, making out his face in the dim rays from the streetlight outside their motel out in god-know-where, it was deep into the night at this point. When he made out Steve’s features, he laughed.

“What? I got something on my face, Sammy?”

“You gone all wistful on me, Rogers, what’s the deal?”

“No deal, no deal. Just… Thinking.”

“Uh huh. About?”

“Your eyes. They’re like the sky, y’know that?”

Sam laughed at that response, and a blush burned Steve’s ears. “What? It’s true!”

“Bit cheesy though, ain’t it? Real cheesy, actually.”  
“Well, yeah, but Sammy, it’s damn accurate,” Steve easily stood from the bed they’d laid on together in their shitty motel room, holding Sam in his arms and carrying him to the window without so much as a grunt. It always made Sam’s heart flutter, when Steve pulled stuff like that, lifting him up like he weighed nothing, and Sam was  _sure_  that Steve knew.

Steve always held Sam a little too tight, too. A little too desperately, like Sam would slip away between his fingers at any moment. Sam didn’t dwell on that part, though, it always made his heart ache. He just wrapped his arms around Steve’s neck and let out a soft breath.

He was soon pulled from that though.

“Look,” Steve said, whispering into Sam’s ear, nuzzling him with his nose, “Look, Sammy, up at the sky, tell me what you see.”

“Shit motel lights for one.”

“Higher.”

“That flickering street lamp right outside.”

“Higher”

“Light pollution.”

“Higher….”

“Smoke’s wafting up from that lady down there, I see some in the sky”

“Sammy.”

“Okay, okay.” Sam took a breath, and Steve could feel his lungs fill up with air.

“I see...clouds. Stars, a whole lotta dark.”

“Mmm.”

“Mmm?”

“Your eyes. Dark as night, filled with twinkling stars. You know how many times I’ve tried to draw them?”

“I didn’t know you tried at all.”

“Cause I never show you, cause I can’t get it right.”

“Uh huh…” Sam’s head leaned to rest on Steve’s shoulder.

“Same thing with the smile. Can’t get it right. S’like the moon.” 

“A giant rock?”

“Gorgeous and bright, Sam, Jesus. A rock?”

“Sorry, it’s late.”  
  
Steve laughed, and Sam lifted his head to watch him. Motel light, blue and soft, and maybe a little bit of moonlight too, streamed in through the window and seemed to collect on Steve’s face. Glowing, and making his laugh seem that more angelic.

Little moments like this. Little quiet moments, Steve looked younger, and so much older at the same. A man who’d lost so much, hurt so much, who’d spent so much of his life trying to come to terms with the fact that he’d never be happy. A man who’d tried again and again to do the right thing, always, but would have to live with the consequences, live with do many efforts being in vain, the knowledge that he couldn’t save everyone. A man so tired, who refused to give up, even now, when he could take a break, settle down, find some peace, he kept fighting. And yet he always looked so full of hope. Tired eyes still sparkling, and Sam couldn’t help feel like /his should be compared to the stars instead. He was so full of love, and when he stopped laughing and turned to Sam with that love so clear and his eyes, it took Sam’s breath away.

He didn’t think he’d seen anything more beautiful.

Steve’s look of love quickly morphed to one of worry as he looked at Sam, his grip tightening just a little further.

“You okay, sweetheart?” it was barely a breath, let alone a whisper.

“Yeah, I am. You got me.”  
  
“Always.”  
  
Steve carried Sam back to the bed and sat down on it, pulling Sam into his lap with a small smile.

“Did my ol’ sappiness really get you emotional? I got better game left than I thought.”

Sam snorted softly, shook his head, and cupped Steve’s face, scratching at his beard, smoothing fingers over the leftover creases in Steve’s forehead, and reverently trailing over his face. It became Steve’s turn for his breath to catch in his throat, leaning into Sam’s hands like they were all that kept his heart beating.

Lots of times, it felt like they were.

Steve’s head turned, kissed the palms of those gentle hands, as his own pressed out over Sam’s back, eventually slipping under his shirt to feel at smooth skin of muscle and raised skin scars. Steve knew the story of each of them, those scars.

Several were from times that Steve hadn’t been fast enough.

Sam could feel Steve tensing, but they couldn’t afford that, not now, not on their time, so he used the hands still cupping his head to make him meet his gaze.

It always happened like this. Too fast. A gate forcing itself open, before Steve could slam it shut again. Whatever escaped...it wasn't fun.

“You good, Steve Rogers?”  
  
“Yeah.” The distance in his eyes displayed the lie.

“Bullshit. Try again. You good, Steve Rogers?”

“I miss you.”

“I’m right here.”  
  
“I’m-- a little...it-- Sam.”

“Talk to me.”

Steve pulled Sam down, to his chest,  rolled the two of them over so Sam could melt against the bed. Steve hovered over him, gazing down at one of his favorite sights in the world, and fuck, if the concern in Sam’s eyes didn’t burn him alive.

“It doesn’t-- stay like this.”

“Like this?”

“Like- us. I don’t-- I don’t get this.”  
  
“Get...this?”  
  
“Things, like this, like you, I’m not--...uhg...”  
  
“I’m a thing now?”

“You’re not listening.”

“You’re not really talking.”

“Sammy--”

“Steve.”

He pulled away, up, off of Sam, off of the bed, and started pacing the room. Sam propped himself up to stare.

“You were on the raft for too long. I should’ve gotten to you sooner.”  
  
“Steve, we’ve been over this countless times.”  
  
“They hurt you.”  
  
“And you got me out.”

“They were trying to get to me.”

“And they didn’t. Which is the important thing.”  
  
“You had to watch Rhodey fall.”  
  
“Steve, I’m past this.”

"Just last week I didn't catch you in time."  
  
"You were on the other side of the alley"  
  
“I was supposed to protect y--”

“That is  _not_  your job!”

Steve wasn’t completely sure when Sam had gotten off the bed, but all of a sudden he was in front of him, stopping his pacing, looking as upset as the rising wave of anxiety in Steve’s gut made him feel. Sam’s chest rose and fell. Steve wished that he could feel it.

“That was _never_  your job.”

“I’m supposed to have got you, I’m-- I’ve lost so many times I’ve tried.”  
  
"Steve."

“I don’t  _get_  good things, good people, not for long, and God, Sam, there’s so much good in you, it’s scary.”

“Scary that you’ll lose me?”

“Scary what’ll happen to you when I do.”

“When?”  
  
“Sammy…”

A car drove past outside, lighting up the room for a single moment.

Both pairs of eyes were wet.

“I’m sorry, Sam, we were having such a nice time, we were supposed to--”  
  
“I love you.”

Both of them realized it’d been a little while since they’d said it to each other.

Sam reached for Steve’s hand, and it fit right over his heart. It was beating so fast. So damn fast. But Sam’s expression was clear, his words confident.

“I love you, Steve. And I’ve got you, too.”

Steve felt the rise and fall of Sam’s chest, and suddenly felt he so light, and so tired, at the same time.

“I love you too, Sam. I’m sorry, and--” Sam shook his head, pulling him closer by his hand. Kissing him slowly, so gently, and Steve knew Sam knew. Steve knew he knew everything. The anxiety didn’t go away, but it quieted. Steve could breathe again. In time with Sam. He didn't realize he'd stopped.

“Thank you.”  
  
Steve’s kisses were short, hard, there seemed a question in the way he wrapped his arms around Sam’s waist, some leftover reservation still. Sam wasn’t having that. Back to the bed he lead them both, back into Steve’s lap, his hands back on his face, Steve’s hands back up Sam’s shirt, touching Sam like he was made of glass, until Sam pushed him back onto the mattress, kissed him again, and didn’t let up until they were both panting.

“Thank you, Sammy, God- I...I-I don’t deserve--”

“You say what I think you’re about to say Steven Grant Rogers and I  _swear--”_

Neither of them finished their sentences, Steve pulled Sam back to kiss him again.

They spent the entire night like that, wrapped up in each other, eyes will wet, kissing each other like they were air. Kissing each other until they couldn’t breathe.

 

It wasn’t the first night Steve had confessed his doubts. It wasn’t the last night they spent clutching each other. But for some reason, a reason he can never quite place a finger on, it’s one of the ones Steve never forgets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI SORRY THIS GOT A LITTLE SADDER THAN I MEANT IT TOO I GOT SUCKED IN MY FEELINGS LMAO
> 
> Anyway. These two. Good for each other. Real damn good for each other. 
> 
> Steve thinks about this night a lot after Infinity War. Oops!
> 
> Kudos are cool, comments are cooler! Please yell at me!! I'm sad. 
> 
> I'm also (down with the) sick(ness) so sorry if this is a incoherent mess i didn't have the strength to proofread but I wanna get this out ! (Also I learned how to format better lmao)


	3. Something Fresh (Bucky)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Three. Bucky.  
> A long visit. It’s afternoon. The sun is out. The world feels still.

Bucky’s greeting to Sam was a kiss on the cheek and a light slap on his ass. 

Sam’s greeting to Bucky was a teasing nip on the neck and a pinch on his side. 

“Where’s Steve?” Bucky asked, grey eyes warm, his voice low and rough, “Or did you get your ass injured again and come by to get fixed again? I thought I told you to be more careful.” Sam grinned.

“Did you just wake up?” He asked, taking a step closer, as if the two weren’t already toe to toe. The sun was warm, the grass whispered- greens and yellows and browns all dancing at the sun. A sheep bleated in the distance, and Bucky broke eye contact to look up at the sky.   
“I can neither confirm nor deny--”   
“It’s three in the afternoon.”

Bucky shrugged, looking more pleased with himself than anything. “Felt good to sleep.” and Sam couldn’t help but smile wider, gap on display, “I ain’t mad, just shoulda come earlier, could’ve napped with you.” Bucky’s eyebrows both rose, then he shook his head, squeezing the hand that’d smoothed over Sam’s butt.

“If you came to bed with me, you  _ know _ we wouldn’t be sleeping.” Sam rolled his eyes, brushing past him now, to go greet the animals Bucky had taken such a liking to. Bucky followed. His place was so….immensely peaceful. The energy came off was so damn immensely peaceful, Sam couldn’t help but feel softer with him, even if Bucky was a little shit sometimes. Bucky loved to indulge Sam in it, in that peace. Try to keep him worry free. Bucky came up behind Sam as he pet his goats, wrapping his arm around his waist and pulling him flush to his chest. “S’been a little while, I missed you.” He murmured, resting his chin on Sam’s shoulder. Sam hummed happily. “Which of these is the asshole again?” 

“Rogers, the one with the spot on his eye. Always trying to bite somebody…” Sam snickered at Bucky’s grumbling, reaching out a hand for the goat, who sniffed, then pressed his head into Sam’s waiting hand. Sam glanced back at Bucky who huffed something about being Sam always being everyone’s favorite anyway, and Sam couldn’t help but smile. “Steve’s with our king, by the way. They looked like they could use some alone time.” 

“You mean, it looked like Steve was gonna burst at the seams and it looked like T’Challa was ready for the dicking down of the century.” Sometimes Bucky had trouble believing he really had three whole gorgeous boyfriends to tease to no end like this. Sam called it the universe apologizing, making up for so many years without peace, without rest.

Bucky called it an incredible dream he hoped he never woke from.   
Sam snorted at Bucky’s words, turning around in his grasp to swat him on the chest. “Well, yeah. And I thought we could use some alone time too. Hasn’t been just us in a while. It’s...I feel better when I get to see you. Fills me up. S’like I got a Bucky Battery, and I was running on damn empty for too long.” Bucky’s heart melted a little at that, and he leaned in to press his forehead against Sam’s. 

“Fuck, I don’t deserve you.”  
“Liar. Kiss me already.”   
“In front of the goats? Oh,  _ Sam _ .”    
“Asshole.”  
  
Kisses with Bucky were always fun. T’Challa had the tendency to be slow. He lingered, savoring each valuable moment, committing each feeling to memory, making Sam go all weak and goofy and smiley and soft. Steve- when in the throws of passion- gave his all, took as much as he could, like he was desperate, like he was sure each kiss would be his last, making Sam feel whole and breaking his heart at the same time. When Steve was kissing causal, he was ever present. Kissing hands, arms, shoulders, ears, temples, neck, his lips rarely leaving Sam’s skin, making him burn oh so right.

Bucky was something else entirely. Bucky was refreshing, and a bit in describable. Sam didn’t know what about him was so addictive, maybe something about how he always pulled Sam closer by his hips or ass, maybe it was how he moaned little soft praises right into Sam’s mouth, maybe it was how he always pulled away breathless, looking at Sam in wonder, disbelieving smirk on his face, like he wasn’t entirely sure Sam was real but he was deeply in love regardless...whatever it was, Sam had been craving it.  

They stayed like that for a long moment, just kissing, the sun on their skin, and then Bucky decided the sun had gotten to see plenty and carried Sam into his hut, never breaking their kiss. 

 

The sun smiled brighter, and everything felt right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting updates at 3 am? I'm a real fanfic author now...  
> This is the shortest chapter of the bunch, dont worry, Buck plays a prominent role in the next one. Well, they all do really, but I wanted to get this out there (and keep it sfw) so I cut it off where I did
> 
> Maybe I should do a nsfw with these four next...? I've got a couple ideas but idk, let me know if you'd like that sort of thing, or more in general from me!
> 
> Kudos are appreciated, comments are even more, thank u for reading! I love and appreciate u, I have NO idea if this is legible, sorry, it's late. Time for me to go pass out ;)


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